Fireworks and Alcohol
by bostonian-FTW
Summary: July 4th-inspired USUK fluff. Arthur is stuck drinking at another bar, Alfred goes to pick him up. What happens when they arrive home changes everything. Summary stinks. Oneshot.


Arthur sighed heavily. Getting drunk all alone in an American bar was definitely not his idea of a jolly good time. But if it could get him through this weekend, then he was all for it.

Because this weekend tortured him every year. He had good reason to feel tortured: this weekend celebrated the independence of three of his former underlings. They were Hong Kong, that kid with the Polar Bear, and most painfully, America.

Where Alfred broke away from him, it had hurt him more than the git could ever come to understand; it still hurt him so much. The idiot never knew how much Arthur loved him. Back then, it was fatherly; then brotherly, as Alfred grew older. Even after they were separated, Arthur continued to love Alfred, and look out for the boy. At some point, he didn't know when, he realized that his love for Alfred had changed. It wasn't merely brotherly anymore. No, he had grown… _attracted_ to the oaf. He still didn't understand what exactly had happened that caused this change, but it was there, always on his mind. He often wondered if Alfred felt something similar towards him… or towards anyone, for that matter. The idiot did so many odd things, Arthur often wondered if Alfred had the maturity to feel this way at all.

But now, just like every other year since, he was stuck in the United States, in a small, shabby bar that served only cheap alcohol. He had been at a meeting in Boston a few days ago, and his return flight did not leave until Tuesday. That left him plenty of time to find this bar and try to drink his problems away, without any other nation knowing he was here.

*~!~*

All the other nations at the meeting, and some that were not, went over to Alfred's house in Plymouth, MA, to celebrate Independence Day small-town style. They watched a parade in the morning (and Senator Scott Brown was even there!), and had a cookout at Alfred's house in the afternoon. In the evening, someone noticed that England was missing, and that instigated a search party for him. The only one who didn't seem bothered by this was Alfred.

"I know exactly where he is and what he's doing," said Alfred, "and it's not pretty, so I'll go get him later, before the fireworks start! We don't want him to miss them!" (Because at some point, it had stopped raining… None of them really knew when exactly…)

*~!~*

Back at the bar, Arthur was on his fifth drink of whiskey, and completely drunk. The barista was getting tired of listening to him ramble on about 'the good old days' when Alfred was a cute child, and under Arthur's control. At about 8:30pm, the barista was just about to throw Arthur out when who walked in but Alfred himself.

"I knew I'd find you here, Iggy. Now come on, we're going home."

At this one line, Arthur burst into tears and had to be dragged out by Alfred. Needless to say, Alfred knew Arthur would react like this, because Alfred used to say the exact same thing when he was little, and he had to go take Arthur home from the pub.

So, Alfred picked up Arthur and brought him to his car. During the car ride home, all Arthur did was ramble on about the music these days not being as good, or how the fireworks that kept going off were 'too loud' and should be illegal (which they are, in MA). Alfred just smiled and kept silent for the short drive home. Although, he did tell Arthur that the other nations would be going to the fireworks without them, and then going to their hotels in Boston.

When they got to Alfred's house, Arthur immediately jumped out of the car and promptly fell over. In any other situation, Alfred would laugh, but it was too pathetic and sad a sight for that. Instead, he picked up the drunken Brit and carried him into the house. Once the Brit was put down again, he promptly grabbed Alfred by the scruff of his collar and dragged him over to the couch.

"Ummm…Iggy? What are you doing…?"

Pushing Alfred down onto the couch, Arthur said, "You know I love you, right?"

Alfred knew he was hoping for the impossible within Arthur's question. He knew Arthur couldn't possibly feel this way, right…? So he could only respond with, "Yeah… Like a brother…" and quickly look away and blush.

Arthur, on the other hand, was too drunk to realize what he was saying, and promptly silenced the boy before speaking again.

", you stupid git! I'm in love with you!"

Needless to say, Alfred was quite shocked. Not only did his father figure confess to him that he is IN LOVE WITH HIM, but the same man also promptly passed out on top of him. Poor Alfred didn't know what to do, so he just remained in that position all night, thinking about the wonderful news he'd received, and eventually falling asleep himself.

*~!~*

When Arthur woke up the next morning, he noticed three things.

One, his head was killing him, and he needed an aspirin_ now_.

Two, he was in Alfred's living room, with no recollection of ever being there recently…

Three, he was lying on top of Alfred. And Alfred held him tightly in his arms. Wait, what?

"Oh. You're awake." Alfred had apparently been awake, too, and was now staring at Arthur with a curious expression on his face. This last part going unnoticed because of his headache, Arthur tried to get up quickly, but was stopped by the hangover that only got worse with movement.

"Ow… Alfred, could you go get some aspirin for me please? I must've consumed much too much alcohol last night…"

As Alfred continued to stare at the Brit in silence and making no move to get up, Arthur realized something was amiss.

"Alfred? What's wro—"

"Were you serious?" Alfred cut him off.

"Git, what are you talking about? Of course I'm serious, go get me the aspirin!" Arthur did not get what Alfred was talking about. "Did you hear me the first two times? Go get me the fucking aspirin! Hangovers are painful, you know!"

"That's not what I was talking about." Alfred had no hint of a smile on his face, so Arthur knew he was being completely serious, and came to the conclusion that whatever Alfred was referring to must have occurred last night.

"…Alfred, did I do something last night?"

"Yeah… But it was more of, you told me something…"

"And what did I tell you?" whispered Arthur, now a little scared to hear Alfred's answer.

"You told me… that you loved me." Arthur was slightly relieved at this, but also very worried about what the American would take that to mean.

"Of course I love you, you're like my little broth—"

"No," interrupted Alfred, "you said it was much more than that. You said you were _in love_ with me."

Arthur was completely shocked at himself, and more than a little embarrassed. "Oh…umm… well then… this is awkward…"

"So it's true then?" Alfred suddenly moved closer to Arthur, and his face now held a glimmer of hope. "You're in love with me?"

"This is extremely awkward… but yes, Alfred, it's true." He suddenly felt a great weight lift off of his shoulders after revealing his true feelings. "So… um…"

Alfred was suddenly thisclose to his face, staring deeply into his tired eyes. "Alfred, what—"

Once again, Alfred interrupted him. "What would you do if I, hypothetically, might feel the same way?"

"I.. I.. what?" This was news to Arthur. The git might actually love him like _that_? But he didn't have much time to process the new, joyous information, because Alfred chose that moment to beam at him, and then suddenly there was no longer any space between them. Out of sheer shock, Arthur didn't move for several moments, but then recovered and responded quite enthusiastically.

After a few more minutes of passionate kissing, they finally broke apart.

Alfred was the first to speak. "So… you never did say happy birthday to me."

Arthur chuckled and smirked at him. "Happy birthday, git. Now go get me a fucking aspirin, I still have a horrible hangover."

A/N: So, obviously inspired by July 4th. But you knew that xD

Anyways, this is part of a challenge between myself, kimmyshhhh, and chibibun (mis amigas). Rules were to write a fic inspired by July 4th weekend that includes a sad, drunk, pathetic England… (don't ask me why, I dunno xD) Anyways, the winner of the challenge is the person who has the most positive votes after one week. SO YOU SHOULD VOTE FOR ME BY REVIEWING EVEN THOUGH THIS FIC SUCKS AND WAS A BITCH TO WRITE BECAUSE YOU KNOW YOU LLOVED IT ;D

Oh, and a positive review from other competitors doesn't count. I'm talking to you, kimmyshhhh and chibibun!

But go check theirs out, too, they're pretty awesome.


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